


The Reaper

by calcalore



Category: Lorien Legacies, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:18:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calcalore/pseuds/calcalore
Summary: Navrina AU-Marina is a Reaper escorting Eight to the afterlife





	1. Prologue

“I can let you in there. To see him. To help him adjust. But know that your time will be limited.”

The girl doesn’t even hesitate. “I need to say goodbye," she says. It was still a struggle for her to believe that this wasn't all an elaborate nightmare. Maybe seeing him one last time would change that. 

Or maybe it would make it harder than it already was to walk away. 

The Entity shakes its head. “That is not how it works.”

The girl looks confused. “What do you mean?”

It answers her softer this time, which is odd, considering that she was speaking to some ageless being probably incapable of emotion. _“He doesn’t remember you.”_

A pause. 

“What? It... It's been _days._ How could he not remember me?" the girl says incredulously. An impossible claim in an already impossible situation.

“Time no longer exists where he is," The Entity explains. "At least, time the way you understand it. The trauma of death is something many never recover from." The girl lets out a laugh that could easily be mistaken for a sob, but the Entity continues. "Have faith, child. You are all the strongest of your kind, and you have lived near death your entire lives. I believe he can recover." 

“So he... he doesn’t know _anything_ about me? About the Garde? About Lorien?” She shakes her head. This couldn't be happening. Her one chance at saying goodbye didn't sound like a goodbye at all. 

“Memory is a complex system. Retrieval failure is normal. You can nudge him along, but don’t overwhelm him. He needs to remember on his own. The less you tell him, the better.”

The girl composes herself, trying to remain calm. This is not what she expected. The boy the Entity described she would meet was just a shade of the boy she loved.

_But wasn’t a shade better than nothing at all?_

And just like that, her mind is made up. 

“You said my time will be limited- how will I know how long I have?” she asks, her eyes reflecting the cerulean ora of this otherworldly consciousness.

“The mind after death... it can be unstable. Dangerous even. But I trust you will know, Marina."

"Know what?" 

But the answer never comes.


	2. I.

“Ah Lorien, why is it so bright here?” the boy says without thinking. At least he could speak. His world is white light and quiet; blinking did nothing to change that. 

“You just got here and you’re already asking questions… interesting. Most people are usually speechless.” 

“Yeah, well being speechless isn't really in my nature,” he replies, still struggling to make out his surroundings and who was answering him. “Where exactly is here?” 

It was hard to think. To do anything. He couldn't even stand up. The light seemed to permeate his mind, leaving everything oddly blank. 

“You died."

Oh. He _was_ dead. He felt like he should have known that. 

“So... is this the afterlife then?” Grass tickles the side of his cheek, and he fights the urge to sneeze. 

“Not quite,” the voice replies. Something was familiar and endearing about this person, coming from a girl not much older than him, he supposed. 

"What’s that supposed to mean? Why did I die?” the boy questions, putting a hand up over his eyes to lessen the glare. He could see the silhouette of who he was speaking to now, a vast improvement over the harsh white he woke up to. 

“Memory loss is normal,” the girl says, ever stoic. “As we walk, your mind will recover. Dying is a highly traumatic experience on one’s brain.” 

"Yeah tell me about it,” the boy says, half-laughing. He attempts and fails to stand up again. Why did his limbs feel so stiff?

Suddenly, it was like someone was giving him an invisible hand to stand up. _Telekinesis_ flashes through his mind. It must be the girl. “Come on,” she says to him. “We have quite a distance to travel.”

His legs finally feel solid enough to walk on, and his eyes clear up so he can see who exactly is standing in front of him. She was tall and elegant, quiet and cool. With her dark hair and high cheekbones, she reminded him of… of… 

Who _did_ she remind him of? He knew someone like her, but that felt like a long time ago.

Waves crash on a rocky shore. The boy rubs his eyes and starts to walk forward, taking in his surroundings. Right now, he and the girl stood in a field dotted with lavender wildflowers. He turns around and finds towering and stark mountains. Then he turns back to the girl and finds sapphire-colored water behind her- an endless sea, divided only by a pier whose wooden slats barely stood over the waves. The sky was the most peculiar thing out of it all: misty gray over the water, but jet black in the mountains. 

It was as if the two were between worlds, one of chaos and one of peace.

“I used to live in the mountains, I think,” the boy says, suddenly remembering. 

“In India,” the girl finishes. 

“How… How did you know where I lived?” he questions. How did she know anything about him? 

The girl just stares, the faintest glimmer of surprise behind her stoic eyes. At that moment, the wind picks up, bringing those ever-darkening clouds from the mountans toward them. 

“We can’t stay here,” she says, ignoring his question. “There’s a storm coming.” 

Indeed there was, so it seemed. In more ways than one. For her vague response had only triggered his curiosity. Why would she refuse to answer any of his questions? He had never been to the afterlife before, yet even he knew something was off. Something he didn't understand, but it was something dangerous. And he was not the type to sit patiently, waiting for catastrophe to find him unaware. So he follows this strange girl down the pier, but continues with his questioning. 

“Where are we going?” 

“Follow me,” the girl urges him, this time with more determination in her voice. She steps onto the weathered slats of the pier and they creak under her weight. The boy trails behind her, trying to decipher her sudden firmness and reluctance to share any information with him. 

A wave crashes to his right, drawing his attention away from her. The water sparkes a memory. 

He knew someone who could breathe underwater, in his life before this one. 

He couldn’t remember her name. Or how he was related to her. Or how she fit into his old life. Once again, the memory felt distant and foggy. He could only hope that soon, the clouds would clear, and the Sun would show him the truth clear as day. 

But then he looks back to the raging storm over the mountains, drawing even closer with every step they took in the opposite direction, and it seemed things would get worse before they got better. The darkness would soon catch up with them.


	3. II.

“So how long does this walk normally take?” he asks the girl, who was slightly ahead of him. 

“It depends…” she answers vaguely, slowing down enough so he could catch up with her.

"On what?"

“On you.”

“Doubt it. If it was up to me, I would definitely skip all this walking and just get to wherever we're going.“ 

She gives him a long look, swimming with emotion, as if debating something. The boy returns her stare, unsure of what game she was playing. Their unusual surroundings and his lack of memory weren't the only thing giving him unease. Something about _her_ felt wrong. Or right. There was so much left to peace together still. If only he could remember. 

“You know… in your past life, you could teleport," she tells him. And then she breaks her stare and continues walking.

“I could? I…” Suddenly, a single memory breaks through the clouds in his mind, a beam of light in darkness. At the same time, lightning cracks over the mountains in the distance, and wave smashes in the pier, spraying them both with salt water. 

It was as if someone reminded him of something important that he had forgotten. 

She was right; he had special abilities in his past life. Teleportation was one of them. And maybe the girl he remembered, the one who could breathe underwater, had special abilities like him. 

That one memory unleashed countless others. His mind was filled with pictures of his past, of afternoons in the forest, hopping from tree to tree, the sunlight shining through the branches. He was alone in all of them. Except one, where he had 3 girls with him. Although not knowing why, the memory made him smile.

“I remember," he says in shock. "I remember a lot about teleporting."

“That’s good," is all his escort says to him. But he had other questions.

“But why can’t I teleport now?” The ability was gone, he knew that for a certainty. He could feel its absence. "And who were those girls with me? Why was I alone in the forest until they came?"

She continues her walk, and he struggles to keep up with her, to keep her from walking away from him. 

"Can't you answer any of my questions?"

She shakes her head. 

He tries again, refusing to be silenced so easily. "What about the girl underwater? I remember her. She was with me in the forest too. Where is she now?"

She stops walking to face him. The girl's eyes are carefully neutral. "The answers you look for cannot be spoken by me. You will find them at the end of this road."

"So _you_ can't tell me anything?"

"Not true. I have told you much already."

The boy sighs. It was true, but... "Nothing much of value..." he mumbles. After all, he still had far more questions than answers.

“At death, all are equal. It’s the cycle of life," the girl says. "That is why your powers are not with you."

He's about to reply, but then an especially icy gust of wind hits them both, and the girl's eyes widen in concern. 

"What? What is it?" he says, matching her worry. 

"We need to move."


	4. III.

"I... I don't understand. _Why_ are we hurrying_" 

"Be assured all your questions will be answered. Right now we need to continue _forward_..." she grabs his wrist to emphasize her point, and the boy swears he feels an electrical shock between them. It was clear the girl wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. Perhaps it was time to change tactics. Maybe if she wouldn't talk about _him,_ she would talk about her. 

“Soo... you’ve done this before?”

Nothing. She said nothing. She just remained a few paces ahead of him as always, pushing to get them both wherever they were going. 

“What is it exactly that you do, by the way?” The boy refused to give up. 

“I help with the transition.”

He considers this, studying the girl's face. Familiar yet-unfamiliar. "And you've been doing this long?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh?"

A small smile breaks through her mask. Something about it makes him ache, makes him feel hollow. 

"You're new to this then?"

No answer. He keeps pressing

"Am I your first?" 

They both stop walking as they realize what he just implied. The boy's face heats up. "No.. I... I didn't mean that... I just..."

And then she breaks into laughter. Her somber countenance is replaced with a sunny one, all because he made a fool of himself. It doesn't matter. The boy thinks her laugh is possibly the best sound he's ever heard. In this life and the previous one.

"I know you didn't," she says with a wide grin on her face. This was the first time her mask of seriousness had dropped. Maybe he was finally getting somewhere. 

“So tell me then. I can’t seem to remember anything. But as the very first person you've met in the afterlife, you must know a lot about me," he continues. "What was my old life like?”

Laughter turns to sadness as her face falls. He feels inexplicably hollow. Why should he care about this stranger's smile, or her laugh? Why should he care about her sadness, or that he was the cause of it? There was so much he still didn't understand. 

There's a long silence before she answers. “I can’t tell you much.”

“But something is better than nothing,” he counters, shaking his head. “Can’t you at least tell me my name?” 

She stops for a moment, debating something. Just as she's about to speak, thunder cuts her off. 

“Naveen,” she says finally. “But you were also known as Number Eight to some.” The distance between them suddenly feels forced. 

He just stares at her. By now, they're surrounded on all sides by ocean, the mountains long gone from view. Even so, the storm crawls closer. The ocean grows more and more restless, and yet this old, withered pier somehow doesn't collapse. 

The boy blinks as he struggles to remember, and struggles to comprehend the attachment he feels with her. This was all so, so strange. But he didn’t know her… He had never met her before, right?

“There were… Nine numbers total right?” he asks. 

Rain starts to sprinkle down on them, the icy sheets blanketing their surroundings in every direction. The girl smiles again, no doubt pleased by his own realization. But then she looks around at the shift in weather and quickens her walk. 

“No wait. There were ten. And… They all had powers like I did.”

“That’s correct,” the girl says, although she seems concerned with the rain and its increasingly intensity. "We have to move."

The boy- Eight- ignores her and stops to rub his temples. “So I was the eighth one. From another planet… Sent to Earth, is that right? I'm remembering much more now.”

She nods, but doesn't break her stride.

“But where are _you_ from? What’s _your_ name?” Eight asks, refusing to budge until he can figure this all out. 

She shakes her head and grabs at his arm, trying to get him to move. 

"Wait, wait a second. Who are _you_?"

"It is of no importance to your journey."

"Are you sure? Because it _feels_ important to me," he levels her with a stare, but she glares back at him. "You know _my_ name, so I should know yours."

The rain pours around them. Eight's not sure if there's tears in her eyes or if it's the weather. 

"Please..." he begs her. "Tell me _anything_ about you."

She lets out a shaky sigh and composes herself. 

A full ten seconds pass before she speaks. 

“I am of the sea," she gestures to the world around them. 

_Of the sea._  
What a strange phrase.

She turns her back to him and walks away. "Once you reach your destination, I will go back to where I am from. But be assured: I will always be with you.”

At that moment, a bolt of lightning strikes. So near to them. But Eight is not afraid. 

“Marina,” Eight says, suddenly full of realization. 

She spins around instantly.

_“What did you just say?”_


	5. IV.

They’re now in the middle of a full on downpour, the pattering drops splashing against the ocean waves. Eight’s bouncy curls lie flat against his head now, weighed down by the water.

“Marina,” Eight says, looking at her again. “I knew a girl named Marina. She was number seven out of ten.”

The girl holds back what he thinks is a sob.

“Are... are you alright?” She nods and turns her back to him. Eight doesn't buy a word of it.

“This way,” she urges, though it’s difficult to hear head over the storm.

"Wait wait wait," Eight stops and grabs her arm. She shakes out of his grasp and continues her walk, knowing he'd follow her. "Are you crying?"

It was hard to come to grips that the girl in front of him was the same girl he woke up to. She had shown no emotion whatsoever when he first met her. Now she was shaking, and she seemed so, so fragile. So dangerous. There was pure, raw feeling was flooding out of her, so tangible he could practically reach out and touch it. 

She perfectly mirrored the storm around them, so untamed and open. It's like he was seeing her for the first time. All with that name-

Marina. 

_Marina._

It was like a switch flipped in his mind, and so many things were coming back to him now. His mind was flooding with memories, spilling over into every corner and crevice of his consciousness. He drops to his knees. Everything crashes down on him like a wave, like a downpour, and he's afraid to be washed away in the tide.

The numbers, they were all people.   
People will names like John and Stanley and Ella.   
There were others too, allies, but not like them.   
He felt a sense of comfort as he remembered his protector, Reynolds, quickly replaced with an aching pain, courtesy of woman who betrayed them.

But that was not the first time he had been betrayed.

Something with Florida. Alligators. A knife. 

The last thing he remembers is ice.

Now he can't feel anything but water pounding him from all sides. The storm has finally caught up to him, and he's not even sure if the girl is here anymore. He's alone. So alone. On an island in the middle of an ocean, drowning in his mind. 

He sobs into the storm. Too much. It was too much. He wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to face it alone. So many truths, an entire life filled with memories, filled with pain and death and-

Someone picks him up. Not with their hands, but with telekinesis. The girl came back for him. 

He couldn't take it. He was losing _his mind_ trying to piece together an entire life. 

“I need... I need," he can barely stand. "Marina, I need to know," he says to the girl. 

Her jaw drops. 

_“What did you just call me?”_

He didn’t think it was possible, but the weather growls with a new intensity. Howling wind, violent waves climb onto the pier, nipping at their ankles. Eight’s eyes widen in disbelief, dull green in the charcoal sky. 

In that moment.

He is the storm.

Inside and out. 

“Marina,” he whispers, looking at the girl. His savior. His protector. His reaper. 

_“It’s you.”_


	6. V.

She would’ve collapsed if he hadn’t caught her.

She's shaking her head wildly. “You… You didn’t know me. I... I thought…” She stumbles in between sobs of happiness.

But he remembers everything now. He knows _her._

Just like that, everything snaps into place. Her name, the feeling of her in his arms. All the pain he just felt is replaced with an inexplicable calm. The wind and rain and waves stop, and everything is silent. 

Her heartbeat echoes. 

But nothing sounds from his chest. 

He's here, embracing _her._ His Marina. 

“I said I’d promise you more days like these huh?" he whispers in her ear. "I guess I just needed to be reminded a little.”

She’s still in shock, desperate to believe it’s him, that he’s real, but wary of being let down again.

“You’re warm. You’re so warm,” Eight replies. Looking at her felt like waking up, like the sun was finally coming out to thaw the icy rage once around him. Looking at her felt like peace. 

“It’s really you?” she says, hovering her hand over his cheek as if her touch will make him disappear.

“Yeah... I… I remember everything,” he says smiling, drinking in every perfection and imperfection he could find in her. "You helped me remember." She lets out another sob, and Eight tightens his arms around her, never wanting to let her go. Never wanting her to feel the pain he had felt in the past life. “I also remember you said you’d kiss me when the whole Florida thing was over." He winks, and her laughter is lost in the thunder and lightening and pouring rain.

“There’s no time like the present,” she says, her voice shaking and down to a whisper. And she presses his lips to his. The rainwater washes away every inch of fear, sadness, and pain Eight as felt. Those former things were gone from his mind, and he would never feel them again. He was certain of it. 

He would do better in this life. He wasn't alone, like all those years in the forest. He had Marina with him, and that was all he needed. Maybe, for once, he wouldn't walk the line between life and death. Death was an obstacle he finally had conquered, the last enemy, and he had defeated it. Now he was free.

When Eight opens his eyes, the sun is shining. The clouds have vanished. The horizon is crisp and clearer than ever, the ocean an azure blanket covered in diamonds. He looks up and sees a light and knows he’s here. Wherever he was meant to be. The place greater than death itself.

But Marina is gone.

And so is he.


End file.
